The Real NCIS
by tinlizzie82
Summary: A series of short humorous fics wherein I express my disdain for the direction the show is heading and indulge my love for the funnies. I'd like to say they are very OOC but these days ... not so much. Enjoy.
1. Ziva's New Job

_Authors Note: This is the first in a series of short fics where I express my displeasure in the direction NCIS has been heading lately. I'd like to say they are delightfully OOC but, uh, lately it seems like this is actually in character. Anyway, they are a good example of one of my guiding principles: why rant when you can bring the funnies instead._

"Whaddaya got!" barked Gibbs as he entered the bullpen.

Tony jumped up from his desk and took up position in front of the plasma screen, while McGee hit a few buttons, causing a map of the D.C area to come up. The map was covered in little red dots and overlaid by the drivers license picture of a guy who looked like he was several showers away from cleanliness.

"Peter DeVries, the last person to see our victim alive," Tony explained.

"Bring him in."

"Uh, trying to, boss. See ..." Tony paused to rub the back of his neck which was currently suffering from a weird prickling sensation. "He's gone off the radar."

"Well, find him."

"We're working on it," McGee interjected. "I've plotted all the locations from which he made cell phone calls in the past three days but he hasn't made one since late last night." McGee punched a button and the photo faded to reveal the map in it's entirety.

"Yeah," said Tony, "I figured maybe he lost it ... or something ..." Tony paused to rub his neck again. "And, anyway, I thought we could ... uh ..."

"Spit it out, DiNozzo."

"I'm trying, boss. It's just ... could you make her stop doing that? It distracts me."

"Make who stop doing what?"

"Ziva. She's smirking at me again. It makes the hair on my neck stand up, and you know, just freaks me out a bit."

"She's just doing her job."

"Her job, boss? How is that her job? I mean, McGee here, his job is to do nerdy computer stuff. My job is to make inspired leaps of intuition that help solve the case ... and also to look hot. Your job is to be all gruff and sometimes go lone wolf and just generally get things done." Then Tony leaned in close to Gibbs and whispered in his ear, "I think you do a pretty good job of looking hot too."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs growled in a warning tone.

"Right, I remember, not at the office. Anyway, how is smirking a job description."

"It isn't, but we don't know what else to do with her. Besides, it makes you get all flustered and act like an idiot. Then I get to headslap you, which is always good."

"How does headslapping me help with the cases?" Tony asked, now thoroughly confused.

"Doesn't, but everyone thinks it's funny. And you like it."

"There is that," Tony agreed. Then a slow smile spread across his face. "Hey, boss, did I ever tell you that I wouldn't mind it if you smacked me, you know, *other* places?"

Instead of replying, Gibbs just raised a hand and whacked him upside the head, which made Ziva smirk even harder. She was getting pretty good at it by now.


	2. A Little MisDirection

_Authors Note: Here is the next in the series - same idea as the last one but it plays a bit more with the idea of the fourth wall._

Ziva snuck back around the corner as quietly as she could, given that her ninja skills were out of practice. _Yes,_ she thought to herself as soon as she had a clear view of the bullpen, _I have caught him red handed._ She slithered up to the divider before making her presence known. She had always found that proximity produced a more satisfying reaction.

"What are you doing, Tony?" she finally asked in her most seductive voice.

Tony leaped up from her computer, the backs of his legs colliding with her desk chair and causing him to collapse onto the floor.

"I told you not to do that," he said from under her desk.

"Do what, Tony," she purred sweetly. She did so like the sound of his name as it dripped from her sexy lips. At least she thought they were sexy. I mean, why else would that strange guy in the director's chair keep telling her to purse them in interesting ways.

"Sneak up on me," Tony replied as he stood up rubbing his head where it had contacted the desk.

"You deserve it for trying to get into my email again. Tony, why are you so jealous of my *friend*?"

"Jealous? Friend? Ziva, what are you talking about?"

"Were you not just trying to read my emails to my new friend in Miami? Are you not driven wild with jealousy by the thought of him touching me?"

"Uh, no."

"Then why were you trying to hack into my computer?" Ziva asked with a frown that she was sure would have been described as pretty, had there been anyone other than Tony there to describe it.

"Oh, uh, I'd rather not say."

Ziva pulled a paperclip out of her pocket and held it up in as threatening a posture as she could manage. Which was not that threatening because, after all, she was holding a paperclip. When Tony looked unimpressed, she began to unbend it dramatically. Tony gave an involuntary shiver.

"You know, Ziva, sometimes you seriously creep me out."

"Talk!" she demanded.

"Really, trust me, you don't want to know," Tony said as a slight blush colored his cheeks. Ziva waggled the paperclip. "Alright, fine. If you must know, I was looking for the videos of Gibbs."

"What?"

"The videos of Gibbs. You know, the ones from the surveillance cameras in the locker rooms. The naked ones."

"You think I have naked Gibbs videos on my computer?"

"You don't? I got an email saying they were in your inbox."

"Why would someone want you to snoop around in my computer?"

"I dunno. It came from an account called tptb-nbc, and was signed 'the Director,'" Tony explained. "It looked kind of official, so I believed it."

"Well, whoever it was, I think it was in very poor taste," Ziva said in disgust. Then she realized that disgust was a good reason to purse her lips again, so she shook out her hair and went back to pouting at Tony.


	3. Texas is Better

_Authors Note: The original title of this was "Why Tony Wishes Ziva's Boyfriend Lived in Texas" but that wouldn't fit here on . Boo! to word limits. A bit longer and even snarkier, but still with the funnies._

Ziva pretended to smile as she stared at her computer screen. Then she knitted her eyebrows together and gave a little snort of feigned disbelief. After she rested for a moment, she changed her expression yet again, this time employing her best smirk. The one she had been practicing in the mirror at home in order to convey just the right combination of knowing disdain and sex appeal.

"Hey, Ziva ..."

"What, McGee?" she answered, somewhat miffed to have her concentration broken.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said, a bit confused. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you were making these faces and I just wondered, because you looked ... uh ... well ..." he stammered, suddenly rethinking his intended comment.

"You looked like you've got gas," Tony answered for him.

Ziva gave a *hrumph* of disapproval and went back to studying her computer screen. "If you must know, I am reading an email from my new *friend* in Miami," she explained to the room at large, even though no one had actually asked.

This was also not strictly true, since she was at that very moment staring at an online ad for a device that promised to increase your bust by two cup sizes in only two weeks. Her friend's email address had been hijacked by a bot and generated the missive, which consisted of nothing more than a generic link. Ziva had clicked on it, expecting some sort of funny video or cartoon, only to suffer several moments of consternation before she realized that he had not, in fact, sent her the advertisement on purpose.

Ziva closed the web page and got back to work, raising an eyebrow and smiling to herself. When nothing happened, she added a small laugh and then glanced up from under her eyelashes to see if Tony had noticed.

He had not. In fact, he was still doing the same thing he had been doing for the past fifteen minutes, leaning back in his chair while staring at Gibbs' empty desk, a contented half smile on his handsome face. Unable to stand his lack of attention any longer, Ziva decided to address him directly.

"Tony, are you not interested in what my friend is writing to me?"

"Not really," Tony replied.

"Why not? What could possibly be so interesting that you do not care about my love life?" she asked, a bit annoyed that he was not bothering to feign jealousy, even after all her hard work.

Rather than answer, Tony simply cut his eyes towards Gibbs' desk.

"Gibbs?" Ziva asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. Do you think he's been working out more lately? Because I've noticed that the sleeves of his shirts seem tighter; I think he might be even more buff than before."

"Is Gibbs _all_ you can think about? Don't you care about who I'm seeing."

"Not really. I mean, you're probably keeping him a secret for a reason, and besides, he lives in Miami. If he lived in Texas, I might be interested."

"What difference does it make where he lives?"

"Well, the last time I got curious about a mystery man of yours, I ended up in North Africa, beaten, bound, and shot full of truth serum. I figure if a guy's got to go through that, he ought to know there's a reward waiting for him."

"Reward?" Ziva repeated before she jumped to the most obvious conclusion. "Tony did you expect me to sleep with you when we got home? Because I find that rather insensitive given what I went through." In all actuality, Ziva didn't really remember going through anything, but some guy with a big camera had told her all about it, right before he told her to act like she was over it. Which wasn't hard since she didn't remember it in the first place. She did like the new, more colorful clothes they gave her to wear afterwards, though. She thought they made her sexier.

"God, no," Tony spluttered in shock. "I was thinking of Gibbs. Getting to see him do his whole Super Special Badass Marine Sniper thing was a real thrill. Not to mention the fact that Gibbs in desert camo has always been a favorite fantasy of mine."

Tony paused and smiled to himself as he relived the memory. Then he looked back up at Ziva.

"The problem with your new man is where he lives. I mean, of all places ... Miami? Gibbs rescuing us in a summer suit while wearing aviator glasses? It doesn't do anything for me."

"But, Tony, Rivkin was from Israel not North Africa. This new guy might take her someplace other than Miami." McGee pointed out.

Tony perked up a bit as he thought about this. "You're right, McGoo." He turned to Ziva. "Would you be willing to ask him to take you to Texas? You know, before he gagged you and all that," he said. "I believe I could work up some curiosity if I thought you were going to be kidnapped in Texas."

"I guess so," Ziva replied. "Why Texas?"

"Cowboys, Ziva. It's all about cowboys. Just picture Gibbs in a ten gallon hat, cowboy boots, and chaps." Actually, at that moment Tony was picturing Gibbs in an outfit that consisted _only_ of those items and the thought of Gibbs' ass framed by the leather fringe of the chaps made him groan out loud.

"Pervert,'" Ziva said as she threw a wadded up ball of paper at him.

Tony ducked and the paper ball missed him, glancing off the file cabinet behind his desk.

"I'd be willing to settle for Wyoming if Texas is too hot and humid for you. Gibbs could totally rock the whole _Brokeback Mountain _thing."

"Degenerate," she snarled as she launched another missile his way.

"Ow!" Tony yelped as this one found its target, then he winced and rubbed his forehead. "Never mind, I give up."

Ziva snorted and went back to her work. Tony waited until he thought her ire had cooled before he ventured one final suggestion.

"Montana," he said, and dove behind his desk for cover.


End file.
